


Learn to Live

by radioactivescreenname



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon, lots of FEELINGS and the sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 08:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12077016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radioactivescreenname/pseuds/radioactivescreenname
Summary: About 50 years pregame, very early in Winthrop and Patchwork's relationship.  First time they say the three little words.





	Learn to Live

The Underworld Concourse is stagnant as ever, only the sound of Cerberus’s engine and the shuffling of a couple sets of feet permeating the heavy silence.  
Winthrop has his arm threaded through Patchwork’s, escorting him down the stairs. He’d stopped rambling about his day to focus on moving down to Winthrop’s room.  
They turn into the alcove just outside the workshop before Patchwork speaks again.  
“Would you kiss me?” It’s a request. Winthrop takes his face between his hands, slowly, trailing his thumbs along Patchwork’s hot cheeks, his fingers ghosting the back of his rough neck. He approaches the kiss delicately at first, waiting to see how the other man reciprocates.  
Suddenly there’s a hand on his waist, drawing him nearer. He’s all too aware of how Patchwork hangs onto him; despite his strength he’s gentle, almost uncertain. Winthrop leans into him without realising, pressing him into the wall. But Patchwork doesn’t complain. Instead his mouth quirks up against Winthrop’s, laughter bubbling up from his core.  
He’s never felt so damn right in his life.  
Patchwork's hands move from his waist to curl just under Winthrop’s arms. He pulls away for a moment, sighing into the mechanic’s shoulder. “I love you.”  
Winthrop’s insides flutter but he stands rigid. His eyes are wide - the confession threw him off. He can’t find it in himself to answer, not now. Patchwork's head is heavy against him.  
“It’s getting late.” Winthrop hears his voice as though from a distance. His hands drop, one wrapping itself around Patchwork’s. “You should be getting to bed.” He looks at the space between the two of them.  
Patchwork yawns, nodding. He closes both hands, rubs the tears from his eyes with the free one. He shuffles ahead of Winthrop, only releases his hand to climb into his bed.  
He nuzzles into the mattress and settles before Winthrop can join him. Moments pass and he can hear the other man snoring.  
Winthrop lies awake for a while longer, still thinking about Patchwork. Why had it startled him so when he said he loved him? They had been together for only a handful of months. It wasn’t long, but maybe long enough.  
He rolls over now to face Patchwork’s sleeping form, curled up toward the wall. Winthrop thinks to reach out and stroke his face, his hair. He inches closer to drape one arm over his shoulder, pulling himself close to share his heat. His sleeve tickles his face; he ignores it.  
The clock stands still on the wall, but Winthrop imagines he might still hear it ticking in the dead silence. His thoughts narrow, quieting down for the night. As he drifts off he finally speaks again, words thick with exhaustion but still sincere.  
“I love you, too.”


End file.
